


I can't function (when I think of you gone)

by DobbyRocksSocks



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Boys In Love, Hospitals, Hurt/Comfort, Injured Steve, M/M, SWEET BOYS, Steve Rogers Needs a Hug, Steve loves Tony, Tony Stark Needs a Hug, Tony is terrible at feelings, Tony is trying okay, and is ready to disabuse him of stupid notions, they both get a hug
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-04
Updated: 2020-12-04
Packaged: 2021-03-10 04:15:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,595
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27868241
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DobbyRocksSocks/pseuds/DobbyRocksSocks
Summary: When Steve is injured on a mission, Tony gets scared. He really doesn't like emotions.
Relationships: Steve Rogers/Tony Stark
Comments: 2
Kudos: 130





	I can't function (when I think of you gone)

Usually, when Tony was the one in the hospital bed, he hated the incessant beeping of the machines.

This time, he found comfort in them, because they meant that Steve was alive and still breathing, and _not dead._

He'd been unconscious for almost twenty six hours now though, and Tony was starting to fear he'd never wake up.

He shifted in the uncomfortable chair, his shirt sticking to the back of it. He'd shucked his jacket almost as soon as he'd raced into the hospital room, only minutes after Steve had been brought in.

The summer sun that shone through the window was too much even for the air-con that Tony knew was in all the private rooms of the hospital, and it was sweltering.

Not that Tony would let that persuade him to leave.

No, he had to know that Steve was okay, that he'd be fine. Hearing it from the doctors wasn't as good as seeing it for himself.

…

"Where's Tony?" Steve asked, grumbling when Natasha had to help him up in the bed. He'd woken up three days ago and his boyfriend had been right there in the chair; as he had every time Steve had woken up since.

It was jarring to wake up and not see him.

"We sent him home to shower and eat," Nat said, shaking her head with a fond smile. "Bloody idiot hasn't left this room since you were brought in, except for the occasional bathroom break."

"Nat… I've been here for almost six days."

"Yes you have," she agreed. "He's an idiot, but he's a selfless one. He adores you, Steve, you should know that. I've never heard him sound so scared when you didn't get back up, you know?"

Steve winced. He could imagine all too well what Tony had gone through; he'd been on the other end of this more times than he ever wanted to be, he knew exactly how if felt to wait for the love of your life to open his eyes.

"Try and make him sleep," Steve said, as he shifted. "Have Rhodey lie down with him, that should work."

"It might, if I wasn't already back," Tony said from the doorway. "Trying to get rid of me, hun?"

Caught, Steve chuckled and held his hand out. "Come lay with me then, if you won't sleep at home. You're always the best sight in any room, Sweetheart, but you look exhausted."

"I'll be fine in the chair," Tony said, taking Steve's hand carefully. "That bed isn't big enough for both of us—not when you're injured."

He raised his eyebrow when Steve opened his mouth to argue.

"Well," Steve said, squeezing his hand. "Can you break me out of here and we can cuddle— carefully, yes, you worrywart—at home, where the bed is definitely big enough for both of us, injuries or not."

"Even when you're injured you're bossy," Tony huffed. He leant over and pressed a kiss to Steve's head gently. Steve lifted his head for a real kiss, but Tony shook his head with a small smile, making Steve pout. "I'll go and speak to the doctor, kay?"

Steve nodded eagerly, letting go of Tony's hand. He noticed the way Natasha reached out and squeezed his arm as he passed her, and when the door closed behind him, Steve arched his eyebrow at her.

"What am I missing?"

She smiled sadly. "He's shaken, is all. Just… keep an eye on him. He'll be his usual blustering, sarcastic self but…" she shook her head. "This had hit him hard, okay?"

Steve nodded, biting his bottom lip. He'd been thinking the same thing, and Natasha never missed a thing when it came to their team—their family. He'd have to keep a close eye on his boyfriend for the next few days.

…

Walking was difficult, but Steve managed it with Tony's help. He was glad to be back in bed though, as much as he hated to admit it. Tony made him comfortable, nattering on about being the best nurse, but there was… something off.

He'd even disappeared and returned with hot cocoa, despite it being summer, because Steve always said it made him feel better.

"Tony…"

Tony glanced up, from where he'd been obsessively straightening the blanket.

"Come to bed."

"But—"

"You need to sleep, and nothing is going to make me feel better at the moment more than having you right here beside me, where you belong, okay?"

Tony bit his lip but nodded, stripping his shirt and trousers before he climbed into bed. He moved close to Steve, but still with a gap between them, and Steve huffed. It was his side that was injured—the opposite side to where Tony was—and he wanted a cuddle, dammit.

Deftly, he pulled Tony closer, until he was pressed up against him, and finally, Steve relaxed.

"I'm okay, Sweetheart. I'll be back to full health before you know it."

Tony nodded and closed his eyes, pressing a soft kiss against Steve's chest. "I know."

...

Steve couldn't help but feel like they were going backwards.

After his first night back, he'd woken up to an empty bed, and Tony pottering around the penthouse, checking on him occasionally but not wholly present.

Gone was his loving boyfriend, who loved nothing more than to settle in against Steve wherever he was, just because he could. Gone was the Tony who'd stop working on anything to spend time with Steve.

Tony who was bright, and easily amused, and infectiously excitable.

He was gone, and in his place, a robot, who fluffed Steve's pillows perfectly, and brought him soup and hot cocoa whenever he wanted it, and sat in a corner in a chair rather than lounging on the bed beside Steve.

Every time Steve tried to say anything, Tony diverted the conversation back to Steve's injury, or the doctor's orders, or he made up an excuse to leave the room.

Steve hated it. He just wanted his Tony back.

As the clock ticked past midnight, Steve ran a hand over his face. He was healing quickly and was less tired than he'd been for the last few days; which meant he wouldn't be able to sleep without knowing his genius was tucked up beside him, getting some much needed rest.

Eyeing the walking stick, propped up against the wall, Steve pushed himself up in the bed. The healing skin pulled tightly, but it was a discomfort he could handle with ease and he managed to get himself onto his feet.

Wherever his Tony had gone, Steve was going to bring him back.

By any means necessary.

...

"Tony?"

Steve's voice trembled slightly and he knew it, but he couldn't bring himself to care. Even in the darkness of the workshop, he could see that Tony hadn't broken the seal on the bottle of whiskey, but that he'd felt the need to get it at all sent a frisson of fear down Steve's spine.

He'd been doing so well.

"I don't want to feel this way anymore," Tony said quietly.

"What way, Sweetheart?"

Tony turned to look at him, his eyes wide and tearful and Steve's heart broke for him. He never wanted to see Tony look so—

"I'm scared, Steve. I'm so scared that I'm going to lose you, and it's fucking with my head. I can't _think_ properly, because all I can see is you falling down and not getting back up again, and I don't… I don't know how to do this."

Steve shuffled a little closer, though he still didn't reach out to touch Tony. Not yet.

"Don't know how to do what?"

Tony chuckled, though the humour was void. "How to _care_ so much. How do people do this, Steve? How do they care, how do they love another person this much and still function?"

"They function together, Sweetheart," Steve said softly. "We're a partnership. A team within a team, even. That's how we function, Tony. We hold each other up."

"I almost lost you," Tony pointed out.

"I know. I can't promise you that this won't happen again, Tones, you know I can't. Not with what we do, who we are, just like you couldn't make the same promise for the same reasons. But… I promise you that I'll always fight to come home to you. I'll always try everything I can to make sure I live long enough to see that pretty smile on your face, okay?"

Tony looked at his hands for a long moment, and then the whiskey bottle, still perched on his work table. When he finally looked at Steve, his eyes were clearer, even as his brow furrowed.

"What in the hell were you thinking, coming down here?" he asked, as though he'd only just realised where they were and that Steve was out of bed.

Steve chuckled. "I was missing the most important ingredient of my recovery."

"Hmm?"

"You, you idiot," Steve said, holding out the hand that wasn't leaning on the walking stick out to Tony. "Come to bed, Sweetheart. The doctor prescribed all the cuddles; for both of us."

Tony's lips tilted up as he stood, accepting the hand offered to him. "No he didn't. He prescribed bed rest and no stress. Looks like I'm not the best nurse after all, huh?"

Steve rolled his eyes. "You could be the worst nurse in the world, and I'd still only ever want you."

"Sap."

"Maybe," Steve agreed, as they slowly made their way to the elevator. "But I'm your sap."


End file.
